


The Favorite

by imafrikinnerd



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24413497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imafrikinnerd/pseuds/imafrikinnerd
Summary: Lord Merlin was left in the care of Ygraine and Uther Pendragon when his parents left on a potentially deadly journey. They never returned, and Merlin was raised by Uther when Ygraine died giving birth to her son, Arthur, a few months later. Arthur resents Merlin, because he has Uther's love in a way Arthur himself could never manage to achieve. But when Merlin is kidnapped with no hope of finding him, how quickly will that hate turn to love?
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 230





	The Favorite

_“If something happens…please, take care of him for us.”_

_“Of course. I'll make sure he’s safe, Hunith.”_

_“Thank you. I don’t know if we’ll make it back and if we don’t...I want him to have a good life.”_

_“I will do everything in my power to keep it that way. From beyond the grave, if I must. I give you my sacred promise.”_

And with that, Queen Ygraine made an unbreakable promise to her dear friend, to protect her child with everything she could if something happened to his parents. She had somehow even got her husband to agree to the same promise. Neither were particularly skilled with raising magical children, but they had Gaius. 

And though they had so far been unable to have children of their own, this child had been entrusted to them and even if he could not be an heir, they might raise him as their own. 

Of course, a few months later, another magical deal was made, and almost a year following the Queen’s promise, she died giving birth to her son, Prince Arthur. King Uther had been grief-stricken and furious, almost to the point of banning magic entirely, but he’d looked at their friend’s child, the boy he’d given his word to protect, and knew that, if only for the boy’s sake, he could not do that. 

He placed heavy restrictions on magic, the way it could be used and the types that could be practiced, to prevent what happened to Ygraine from happening to others, but he did not ban it outright. Magic could still be practiced, so long as it didn't hurt anyone.

That did not mean, however, that he looked upon his son—his real son, not the pseudo-son his friends had given them—with any great kindness because he held Ygraine’s likeness. Quite the opposite, indeed. 

Merlin reminded him of his caring and loving wife, who would have raised this boy as her own with no question. 

But Arthur, well, Arthur had killed his mother as far as Uther was concerned. He had sucked the life from his mother as he exited the womb, taking the life of the king’s dear wife. 

X

The king continued to dote on Merlin throughout his childhood. When the boy was but two, they had received word that his parents were dead, killed on the mission they had struck out on, the details of which Uther knew not. Not that Merlin had anyone to grieve. His parents had left him in the care of the King and Queen of Camelot in anticipation of this exact circumstance. He had not enough memories of them to grieve them. 

Merlin lived a lavish childhood, Uther’s ward and a beloved child of court. Arthur did, too, the prince of a wealthy kingdom. Though Uther did not try to raise them as brothers, did not want them to think of each other as so, and actively tried to avoid cultivating such a relationship between them, as one might have expected in such a situation, but he raised them similarly. Both children had the best tutors the land could offer, the finest clothes that could be made, and the most delicious and full meals to be found in all the kingdom.

But, while on the surface it seemed the boys were given the same treatment, there was one major difference: love. Uther adored Merlin, who was as a son to him, but could never find the same love in his heart for his actual son. 

Ygraine’s death had made him bitter, but he could not turn his acrimony to magic, because he couldn’t hurt the darling child he’d sworn to take care of. Instead, he turned his feelings to Arthur, held Arthur responsible for his mother’s death. He knew it wasn’t fair. He knew, deep down, that Arthur couldn’t have done anything about it. But that didn’t mean he didn’t give his son a much colder childhood than he truly deserved, focusing his warmth on his ward. 

Throughout the course of their childhood, Arthur noticed how Merlin always got praise from the king when the tutors gave their reports, while he only ever got thinly veiled disappointment. He resented it. 

He resented Merlin, with his magic, who got all the love from Uther that he’d always craved. Who was always sickeningly nice, to him and the servants and whoever else he happened upon. Who was obviously perfect, because somehow, he’d earned Uther’s approval. 

And the worst part was that Arthur could never hate him for it. He could try, but it had never been possible. Despite all the spats and arguments and downright nasty fights they’d had, and how much he’d tried to make himself hate Merlin, he never could. And he could never figure out why that was. 

X

At least, he couldn’t figure out why until Arthur’s twenty-first birthday feast. Obligatory, of course, for Uther would never have wasted the effort of organizing one if it weren’t for appearances. In Arthur’s opinion, his was less extravagant than Merlin’s had been, but he’d gotten used to it. Besides, twenty-one meant that he would soon be crown prince, not just regular prince. If Uther deemed him worthy, that is. Which he probably wouldn’t. He knew that, if he could, the king would choose Merlin as his heir. 

But it was at this celebration that everything fell apart. 

“Merlin!” The king greeted. 

“Sire,” Merlin bowed his head in respect. 

“What business have you on this side of the castle?”

“I was coming to see how Arthur’s birthday celebrations were coming along. Twenty one is quite a special birthday for a prince, I know.”

“Indeed it is,” Uther said neutrally, always striving to keep his ward ignorant of his true feelings about his son. He knows the boy has no problem with speaking his mind, and he knew that Merlin would find his unfounded resentment for his son deplorable. 

“He’s waited so long for this, you know? He tries so hard to make you proud, and I just don’t think you show him how proud you are sometimes. I think some praise would do him some good.”

“Praise would make him complacent. He would not work as hard if he thought I was completely happy with how he performs now.”

“Well I believe he’d work harder. Like using treats to train the hounds.” Merlin says with a smile. 

Uther took a moment to realize that Merlin just literally compared his son to dogs, but by that time his ward had disappeared from sight. He smiled a little, knowing the boy meant no true slight. 

Later, as the banquet was just about to begin, Arthur met Merlin in the hallway, keen on escorting the Lord to the banquet, as he was sure his father would want. Or maybe, this time, he should escort a beautiful and eligible Lady to the dinner. He wasn’t quite sure, but Lord Merlin was always a safe bet. 

“Your highness,” Merlin greeted. 

“Lord Merlin,” Arthur responded. “Would you do me the pleasure of allowing me to escort you to the banquet?”

“I would be honored,” Merlin answered, settling comfortably by Arthur’s side, as he always did when Arthur escorted him anywhere. “I stopped by earlier to see the preparations for the feast. It looks lovely. A proper twenty-first birthday—you’ll be crown prince, soon.”

Arthur tensed. “If my father deems me worthy of such a title.”

“You’re the greatest warrior in the land, Arthur. You’re a good student and you’ll be a great king, one day. Kilgarrah says so.”

Arthur, blushing lightly at the compliments, snorted. “Oh, well I’m sure if Kilgharrah says so it’s true. I’m sure he’s the expert on my future, isn’t he?”

Merlin bristled slightly at the slight to his favorite dragon. “He can see the future, you know, Arthur. If that’s what he says, I trust him.” 

Arthur pursed his lips slightly in displeasure. “He can see glimpses of possible futures. He doesn’t know exactly what will happen.”

“Oh, lighten up will you, you prat? It’s your birthday, it’s a party, and we’ll all get drunk! Forget about your father for tonight.”

“Easier said than done,” Arthur mumbled, but then they were at the doors to the banquet hall, and it was expected they make a dignified entrance, and they could not continue their discussion.

Arthur led Merlin to the high table, leading him to the seat on King Uther’s left, pulling out his chair for him and trying to be his gentlemanly best. Merlin rolled his eyes but decided not to bring up that _I’m not a girl, Arthur, you don’t need to treat me like one, thank you very much_. 

King Uther gave Arthur’s actions an approving gaze and Arthur preened a bit at the look. Merlin supposed that being treated like a fair maiden wasn’t that bad when it meant Arthur got a rare bit of approval. Arthur sat down on Uther’s right, nodding respectfully. 

“Father,” he acknowledged. 

“Arthur,” Uther allowed. 

“Merlin—“

“Lord Merlin,” Uther interjected as he always did when Arthur didn’t use his ward’s proper title.

“ _Lord_ Merlin said that he came by earlier to look at the preparations. He said it looked lovely and I must agree.”

“Yes, I do remember seeing him here earlier. I believe he called you a dog,” Uther smiled. 

“Merlin!” Arthur sputtered, leaning over his plate to look over at Merlin, who was giggling.

“Arthur, behave,” Uther said as he gave his son an unimpressed look. Arthur looked almost crestfallen to see it replace the even slightly proud look he’d gotten earlier. 

Merlin, noticing Arthur’s expression, quickly tried to bring the attention off Arthur. 

“I have to say, this feast does seem to be living up to my expectations. It is only right, of course. The prince’s coming of age should be a grand celebration.”

“Indeed it should be, Lord Merlin,” Uther hummed. “I do believe your own coming of age celebrations were quite grand as well, were they not?”

“They were, your majesty. I had quite good fun. Especially once the wine started flowing,” he joked lightly, smiling over at Arthur, who gave a strained smile back. Arthur appreciated what Merlin was doing, he really did, he only wished that Merlin didn’t have to come to his rescue all the time…

“More than a few lords were quite drunk, yes,” Uther reminisced. “In fact—“

_CRASH_

There was the sound of people screaming. 

_BOOM_

The room went pitch dark. 

_CRACK_

Silence. Arthur couldn’t hear, he couldn’t see, he wasn’t even sure he could breathe.

“Father? Merlin?” 

“Arthur? Arthur, are you alright?” Came his father’s voice, and then the panic of the rest of the room filtered in. He could hear people yelling about getting some light in the room, but the darkness had been caused by a spell of some sort, so he assumed the various sorcerers scattered about the room would set about lifting it. 

“I’m alright, father. Where’s Merlin?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see a damned thing!”

“Merlin? Merlin!” Arthur yelled over the cacophony of the room. He could neither hear nor see the boy, and he was getting scared. “MERLIN!”

“Arthur, calm down. Perhaps he hit his head in the confusion and passed out.”

“Perhaps…” But Arthur had a bad feeling about this all. 

Finally, someone managed to get some light back, and Arthur immediately looked to where Merlin had been sitting. He wasn’t in his chair, nor on the floor near it. “Merlin? Father, I don’t see Merlin anywhere…”

“Nor do I. Guards! Find Lord Merlin! Make sure he isn’t hurt!”

“Father...I don’t think they’ll find him. I think whatever that was was after him.”

“No, Arthur,” Uther replied firmly. “He’s here somewhere, I’m sure. Just lost in the crowd.”

“Of course, father.” Arthur replied weakly. 

“Sire,” Sir Leon came running up to them. “Lord Merlin is nowhere to be found. We’ve looked through the whole room and the corridors nearest here. He couldn’t have gotten that far in the dark and there’s nothing to indicate he was forced from the room. It’s like he disappeared into thin air.”

“That’s preposterous! He’s here somewhere! Look harder!” The king was red with anger. 

“Father...I think Sir Leon might be right. If that _thing_ took Merlin…we must at least consider it an option.”

Uther looked for a second like he’d argue again that Merlin was somewhere in the castle, but deflated before he did so. “I...believe you might be right, son. We must consider all options if he is truly missing,” He turned to Leon, who was still standing there. “Search the entire castle and the town. Make certain he’s nowhere to be found, but send search parties into the forest right away. If he’s not in the castle or the town, send as many men as you can spare into the forest, all directions, then report to me so I can write to our allies and ask for their assistance in finding him. He must be found, do you understand?”

“Of course, sire.” Leon didn’t say anything more before he ran, yelling directions at knights and gesturing to people.

Arthur stood there for a moment, observing the chaos and not knowing what to do. If Merlin was gone...he’d known Merlin his entire life. Merlin wasn’t just a friend. Merlin was a necessity in his life. As much as they bickered...Arthur wasn’t sure what he’d do without Merlin.

“Arthur!” Uther’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. “What are you still doing here?”

“Sire,” he bowed, running off to join Leon in the search for Merlin. 

  
X

Merlin awoke in a surprisingly light place. He’d expected a dank dungeon. When he looked around, he found himself in a bedroom. In the bed, in fact. And it was a very nice bed. Almost as nice as the one he’d had in Camelot. He supposed it would have been optimal conditions for waking up after being kidnapped if he hadn’t felt like utter crap. 

He’d never felt this poorly, he was sure. Not even after Arthur had given him a prank potion that had had him throwing up for days as a joke. 

He wondered at the source of his illness before his eyes landed on the manacles he now realized were burning. Not hot enough to scorch his skin, but it certainly wasn’t comfortable. 

He looked at the runes on them. His mind was slightly hazy, but he thought he picked out “stop” and “magic”. Were these meant to cut him off from his magic? They must’ve been. If he hadn’t his magic...well, it would be much harder to get out of here than he’d thought. He didn’t have Arthur’s brute strength, even if he was skilled with a sword. 

He’d just have to hope that Uther and Arthur would be looking for him and that someone would find him. And someone would, he was sure. Arthur was the best hunter in all the land, as he liked to boast. He’d be found in a few weeks, tops. 

He lost his train of thought when someone opened the door. 

“He’s awake,” someone with an accent Merlin didn’t recognize said. He must be from far away, or this man was a foreigner. 

“Good,” another man replied. “Tell him what’s to be expected in his new home.”

Merlin was smart enough to know that they might well torture him, and he kept his mouth shut. If he was obedient, well, he’d only have to be so for a short while. They might take it easy on him. 

The man walked fully into view, and Merlin could see he was short, with shaggy brown hair and a slight figure. 

“Lord Merlin,” the man started, “your time here will not be pleasant. I will not delude you with such ideas. In fact, your stay here will be considerably painful, and if we’ve done a good enough job, very long. If we’ve done a good enough job, no one will be able to find you, ever. There will be not a trace of you anywhere. Any questions?”

“Why?” Merlin croaked. 

“A good question, my lord. You see, a few years ago, my father and a few of my brothers were involved in a plot to take over the throne of Camelot. Their boss had found evidence that Uther did not have the right to the throne he claimed. I never learned what it was, but I believe it existed. My father, brothers, and their conspirators were, of course, caught and swiftly and brutally executed, as is the way in Camelot. Uther hunted down and killed the rest of my family, even my innocent mother and baby sister. I was left with one brother. We vowed to get revenge. We’ve spent a long time trying to figure out exactly how to hurt Uther where it hurt.

“Uther may be known for his ruthlessness, but he’s also known for his devotion to his ward, Lord Merlin. It didn’t take a genius to realize that if we wanted to get to Uther, we didn’t need his son. We needed you. We wanted to make Uther feel the pain we’d felt. Of course, kidnapping the king’s most prized possession would take a good amount of magic and planning. It was a small price for the revenge we sought.

“We found a spell. A powerful, ancient spell that would allow us to take you to wherever we wished, directly. Of course, there are spells to keep scryers away, and there aren’t any tracks to follow. And we’re hidden by magic so well here, well, I don’t believe they’ll ever find you through normal means.”

“Where am I, then?” Merlin rasped, weak from having his magic cut off. 

“Your own estate—didn’t you recognize it?”

“This room was not in the castle on my estate. This looks like my rooms...in Camelot.”

“Good. It’s supposed to, to remind you of home. Since you’ll never see it again. We chose the last place Uther would think to look. He’ll scavenge your estate, I’ve no doubt about that, he’ll be desperate, but this room is hidden from the eye with so much magic only Emrys could find it. But Emrys is right in front of me, bound in magic suppressing chains. There's even magic to cover up the magic we've used. So you see, you’re stuck with us.”

“No. Arthur will find me. There might not be tracks to follow, but he’ll never stop looking. And when he and Uther get their hands on you…”

“But he’ll never find us, my dear Merlin. It’s fruitless to hope. Although, I fear that soon, hope will be all you have left.”

He laughed as he backed away, leaving Merlin slumped in the bed. He had a bad feeling in his gut that he tried to ignore. Arthur would find him before anything bad could happen. Arthur would save him. He always did, no matter how much Merlin complained. And that’s what Merlin loved about him. 

  
X

It was exactly one year, ten months, and sixteen days later that Arthur collapsed into his room, exhausted. Another fruitless, fruitless patrol looking for a man who may very well be dead. Not that Arthur believed Merlin was dead. He’d made sure to keep his mind firmly away from the thought that Merlin might possibly be dead. It would certainly break his heart. 

Well, more than it had already broken, with Merlin being gone for so long. It was harder and harder every day to find the hope that maybe they’d find Merlin that day. Many of the knights had given it up to a lost cause. They searched as their king commanded them, but they were looking for a body, a corpse, not _Merlin_. 

Morgana strode in and sat next to Arthur at the table. “We’ll find him, Arthur. I’m certain of it.”

“A vision?” Arthur’s head snapped up, looking at his father’s other ward. “Morgana, have you Seen where he is?”

“No. I would’ve come to you before now if I had. I’m sorry, Arthur.” She added as his entire body drooped. “But I’ve got a strong feeling. That he’ll be safe and sound eventually.”

“You’ve had that feeling before, haven’t you? For almost two goddamn years, you’ve been telling me we’ll find him soon, you’re _sure_ of it. And every goddamn time, I get my hopes up just to be let down a month later when I still haven’t found him. I—I can’t get my hopes up, again, ‘Gana. If I get my hopes up one more time, and I’m let down _again_ , I think my heart will break.” 

“I feel it, Arthur. I don’t know when, it might not be anytime soon, but I _know_ you will find him. .”

“Well, I’ll trust your feelings then again, right? And then, when it turns out that your feeling is nothing at all, we’ll have you to blame when I _can’t do it anymore_!”

“I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t believe it was the truth. But you don’t believe me...fine. I’ll go, then.”

“Morgana…” Arthur’s voice followed her from the room, but he made no real effort to apologize for what he’d said. 

As he let his head hit the table, a page arrived at the door with a summons from his father. He grudgingly got up and walked to his father’s chambers, where he knocked and waited to be let in. 

“Arthur, you didn’t report to me after your patrol.”

“I asked Sir Leon to do it. I had other things that I needed to take care of. Leon was perfectly capable of delivering the report, I saw no reason why it had to be me reporting to you.”

“I expect you to report to me after every patrol. Not Sir Leon, nor any of your knights. You. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.”

“You still haven’t seen a sign of him? Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.”

“Dammit, Arthur! I want him found!”

“I know, Father. I do, too.”

“Why haven’t you found him yet? Are your knights that incompetent? Are our sorcerers that useless?”

“Father, we’ve had the best hunters and the most powerful sorcerers out there looking for him. We all want to find him. Whoever took him covered all their bases. They left no tracks, we can’t scry on him, there’s no way we can detect him, magically or otherwise.”

“I would’ve thought my son would be capable of outsmarting this person, thing, whatever it was!”

“I’m trying my hardest. So are my knights.”

“Well you need to try harder!”

“You’re not the only one who wants him found,” Arthur cried, cracking a bit with the weight his father put on him. “I want him back just as much as you do.”

“You cannot even pretend to care about that boy as much as I do,” Uther snarled. “I made an oath, I swore I’d protect him. And look at what happened! You let him get away!”

Tears pricked at Arthur’s eyes. “I care about him every bit as much as you do! I might not have sworn an oath, but Merlin was my best friend! I—I _loved_ him! I still love him!”

“You don’t know what love is, Arthur! I loved your mother, you killed her! When Merlin’s parents died, he was all we had left of them! And he was my only reminder of Ygraine once you took her from me! And now he’s gone too, and you can’t bring him back to me!”

Uther’s face was red with fury, Arthur’s red with shame. He’d known that his father blamed him for his mother’s death, blamed him for Merlin's disappearance, for the fact that Merlin was nowhere to be found. He’d just never said it out loud before. It hurt more than Arthur had thought it would, had expected. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t, could he? Uther was right. It was his fault, all of it. 

So he just bowed to his father and walked out of the room. Once he was back to his room, he locked the door and did something he hadn’t allowed himself for a very long time. 

He cried. 

He cried for Merlin, he cried for himself. He cried because his father was right, he killed his mother and it was his fault that Merlin wasn’t back. He cried because Merlin wasn’t with him, and that was very, very wrong. He cried because he was tired and done with hoping and hoping that Merlin was out there and then not finding him day after day after day. It was a vicious cycle and it had finally caught up with the prince. 

  
X

Merlin hadn’t left that wretched bed since he’d arrived. Even if the chains had been long enough to allow it, he was so weak. He was actually surprised he wasn’t dead yet. He knew that he was made of magic. His life force stemmed from it. He’d initially thought that the cuffs would eventually cut him off from his magic so completely that he’d be cut off from the magic keeping him alive and he’d die. But it seemed that fate wouldn’t be that kind to him. 

No, it had sucked all his energy away, had made him incredibly ill, and had essentially incapacitated him for...he wasn’t sure how long he’d been here. He’d stopped counting after the first few months. 

The worst part of this all, though, was the torture. One would’ve thought that not having his magic would be terrible. But he’d gotten used to the feeling of not being able to access his magic. 

The worst part was when they strapped him to one of his bed posts and whipped him within an inch of his life (as though he wasn’t always within a few inches of his life without his magic). The worst part was when they branded him with a hot iron and he couldn’t even cry, because he’d cried all the tears he could in the early years. The worst part was that he’d be on the verge of death, hoping he’d just be able to succumb to the darkness, and then they’d heal him. 

Well, heal what they could. There was nothing to be done about the perpetual weakness caused by his lack of movement, magic, and food. 

He’d lost hope after what he’d been informed was his second year of confinement that he’d be rescued. If Arthur was going to find him, it would have been in the first year, maybe the second. After two years...he couldn’t even be sure they were looking for him anymore. Any number of things could’ve happened. 

Merlin had begun to hate Uther. He knew that Uther had done no wrong, really. But Merlin was being punished for something that Uther had done. And at first, he was sure Uther would be heartbroken. But it had been so long...what might have once been a deep pain in the king’s heart would have dulled to perhaps a dull ache by now. 

Not like the sharp pain of his whippings, or the stinging of the brand. 

And as he realized that Arthur, the man he’d realized he loved so long ago, wasn’t coming for him, he lost any will to live he had left. He became a doll for them to use. He didn’t feel the pain, not really. Not anymore. 

  
X

It had been four years, five months, and twelve days since Merlin had gone missing. Some people thought he was crazy, still counting the days like this. But Arthur thought that if he stopped counting, Merlin would truly be gone. It would become real. When three years had passed, Uther had finally been forced to listen to his advisors and accept that Merlin was gone. He’d announced Merlin’s death to the people, the majority of whom had already accepted him as dead. He’d stopped the few patrols that were still out looking for Merlin. He’d grieved the death of his dear ward, and tried to move on. 

But Arthur had refused to give up. He still rode out on patrols, looking for any kind of sign. Neighboring kingdoms had allowed him to ride through their lands without issue many years ago, some rulers knowing refusal might mean war, others understanding the loss of a loved one. Arthur knew it was contradictory to still be looking when he’d tried so hard to never bring his hopes up, but maybe he did still have a little bit of hope left. 

Uther had tried to stop Arthur’s patrols, but every time he did, Arthur went almost insane. He’d beg Uther to let him continue, tears streaking down his face, in complete hysterics. Uther eventually decided it wasn’t worth it to try to make him stop. 

And gods help anyone that would try to tell Arthur that Merlin was dead. 

Gaius had, exactly one time, sat Arthur down in his chambers and explained to him that there was no reason to keep Merlin there for more than three years without killing him. Arthur had jumped up and started screaming about how everyone else had given up on him, but he wouldn’t. He had practically destroyed the chambers, had just short of attacked Gaius. 

Gaius hadn’t attempted to talk to Arthur about Merlin’s death again, and any knight that attempted it was left to defend themselves from Arthur’s enraged attacks. Arthur always won, and the knight was usually bedridden for a week. 

Today, Arthur flew through Merlin's family estate. It belonged to the crown now that Merlin was officially dead, but it would be returned to Merlin when Arthur found him. Uther had had it searched in the first few years, but had dismissed it because who would be stupid enough to kidnap Merlin and then bring him to his own lands, and anyway there had been no sign of him there. Arthur thought it would actually be a perfect place to hide him, in plain sight. 

To be honest, he hadn’t planned on going here today. In the middle of the night, however, Morgana had rushed into his rooms and told him to go to the castle in Merlin’s lands. He’d been hesitant, but Morgana had never mentioned a place before. It had just been feelings. 

This time was different, and for the first time in years, he allowed himself hope. 

He’d called for one of the royal dragons. Kilgharrah, specifically. He knew the old dragon did not like being used as a mount, but he felt like he needed something more than his sword. In fact, it was the sword that Merlin had intended to give him for his birthday the day he went missing. Excalibur, Kilgharrah had called it. It was one of the only things he’d had left of Merlin, and he was rarely parted from it. 

When Arthur had begged Kilgharrah to take him to Merlin’s estate, the dragon was, as usual, recalcitrant. Only when he’d cried out that Morgana had told him did the dragon seem moved by his pleas. 

“If the Witch Sees it, it may be. I will help you find my Lord, young prince.” He’d said, and allowed Arthur to climb onto his back and they’d set off. 

Morgana had said the castle specifically, so that’s where he’d go first. As he hopped off Kilgharrah’s back, the dragon spoke. 

“Be careful, young prince. I sense strong magic here. It is not friendly magic. You will need my help.”

“You can sense the magic? Can you tell me where it is?”

“Only that it is strongest in the eastward side of the castle.”

“How come we couldn’t sense it before?”

“It seems that before it was hidden by an even stronger magic, disguising it as the magic of the land and castle. Whatever was hiding it has weakened enough for me to sense it.”

“Who would go through all this trouble for him?” Arthur asked, suddenly sad. 

“There are many people who would go to great lengths to be rid of someone as powerful as Emrys, or those who knew that to take Merlin would weaken Camelot’s king. But now is not the time to dwell on such things, young prince. Find him.”

Arthur looked at Kilgharrah, nodded, and started running to the east side of the castle. He himself could not feel the magic, but Excalibur almost felt as if it was vibrating with what must have been the same magic Kilgarrah felt. He ran without much direction, through the halls and past the few servants left in the castle. 

Soon, he recognized where he was. He hadn’t been here that many times, and certainly not in the last few years, but in the few visits he’d made with Merlin, they’d always found themselves in this corridor. It contained what had been Merlin’s parents’ room, with the adjacent nursery for when Merlin had been but a babe. 

He wasn’t sure how, but he felt as if he was in the right place. He looked at the door he knew led to Merlin’s parents old chambers, and hesitated. Instead, he went into the set of rooms next to them, and called out the window to Kilgharrah. 

When the dragon had landed in front of him, he started talking. 

“I think I’ve found him, or where he’s hidden. But if he’s hidden by magic, how can I find him?”

“Hold out your sword, young prince.”

Arthur did so, and Kilgharrah blew a flame on it. 

“What did you do?”

“Excalibur is a powerful sword, forged in a dragon’s fire. Merlin added his own magic to it, to protect you. I have added but one more enchantment, entwined it with Merlin’s magic, so it will do your will. It should let you through their enchantments.”

“Thank you Kilgharrah. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for this, if I get him back.”

“You do not have to thank me, young prince. Just find him.” And with that, he flew off. Arthur rushed out of the room, to the door of the one next to it. Gripping Excalibur tightly, Arthur tried the door. It was locked, but he felt magic flow from Excalibur through him to the door to unlock it. 

As he entered the room, he braced himself for a fight, but found it empty. Once again, however, he felt Excalibur dismantle the enchantments and suddenly he was standing in a room that looked exactly like Merlin’s had, in Camelot. He knew it was the same because he’d spent most of the time he wasn’t out looking for Merlin in his rooms. 

The curtains around the bed were drawn. Slowly, carefully, he approached it, sword held aloft. This could be it, could be the moment he finally found him, got Merlin back. 

He wasn’t sure why he hadn't ripped the curtain back yet. Excalibur was thrumming, he was sure it would be Merlin in the bed. 

Maybe he was afraid of what he’d find. 

It had been over four years. Merlin wouldn’t be the same. Arthur wanted to hope that Merlin never gave up hope that they’d find him, but he knew, after this long...it was unlikely. 

And what had his captors been doing to him? Torture, surely. What state would Merlin be in? 

After a moment of just standing there, a groan from the bed drew Arthur’s attention. Pulled out of his thoughts, he ripped the curtain back without care. 

And there he was. 

Or, Arthur thought it was him. 

It was the same black, scruffy hair, the big ears, and the same slim body. 

But goddess, did Merlin look different. 

His hair was long, longer than Arthur had ever seen it. He had a beard to match, though parts of it looked charred. He was thin as a stick, even thinner than he had been back in Camelot. What little meat he’d had on his bones back then was completely gone now. His face was sunken in and sickly. He looked on the verge of death. 

The biggest difference Arthur noticed, however, was the one that had him staring in horror at the body before him. 

The scars that littered Merlin’s body were so numerous, Arthur wasn’t entirely sure there was a part of his body that had been left untouched. 

There were slashes across his face, down his arms, and on his neck. Burn scars overlapped with many of them. Even magical healing left nasty scars. He was sure that Merlin’s wrists would look awful when he removed the cuffs on them. It was almost surprising to see that Merlin had all his fingers and eyes, and the thought disturbed Arthur almost as much as Merlin’s actual injuries did. 

“Oh, Merlin, what did they do to you?” Arthur asked quietly, running his hand lightly along the side of Merlin’s face. 

Quickly, he rearranged Merlin so that his chains had a good amount of slack. Raising Excalibur, he swung the sword down on each chain, the blade sliding through it like a hot knife through butter. 

When the second chain broke, Arthur saw Merlin take a gasping breath, bigger than any of the shallow ones he had taken while Arthur had been there. Arthur saw his eyes open, swimming with gold, and he had just a second to appreciate the sight he’d missed so much before he was knocked out by a wave of powerful magic. 

  
  
  


Merlin had forgotten what it felt like to have his magic flowing through him. The day he realized that he couldn’t remember was probably the worst day of his life, second perhaps to the day he realized Arthur wasn’t coming for him. 

But today he was awakened by what he knew instinctively was his magic, given back to him, exploding from him in all directions. The chains...whatever spell had been in them, it was broken now. He had his magic back. He was weak from not having it for so long, and the sensation of it felt foreign to him. But he had his magic, and that was enough for him. It wasn't...completely back. It was incredibly weak, and he realized that the spell hadn't broken entirely, just weakened enough to give him some access to his magic. 

He shot up and looked around for whatever had caused the spell to weaken. He saw nothing at first, and then he saw a figure slumped on the floor, likely put there by the blast of magic that had escaped when he’d woken. 

There was a sword in the man’s hand that looked oddly familiar, and Merlin realized it must’ve been what had broken the chains. And he could move from the bed! He was no longer restrained in that cursed bed! 

But he looked closer at the man, who had landed face down, and thought dejectedly of how much he looked like Arthur...blond hair, the build of a knight, and the air of a king. 

But he knew it could not be Arthur, because he’d long known Arthur was never going to come for him. So he would have to thank his blond savior and know that he was not Arthur, that Arthur had not come for him after all. Still, he was grateful to this man, whoever he was. He was the one that had saved him, in any case. 

Merlin tried to get up from the bed, but his arms would not hold him, and he knew his legs would not either. All he got for his efforts was the pain of exertion, and he groaned loudly, hoping his captors were not near enough to hear. 

It seemed the noise was enough to wake his savior, however, and the man moaned quietly. Merlin could only watch as the man twitched, and slowly came to consciousness. 

“M’ln?” 

“Who are you?” Merlin tried to ask, his voice rough from years of being used for nothing but screaming and pleading. 

“Merlin?” The man asked again, and Merlin’s breath caught in his throat, because that certain couldn’t have been the voice he thought it was. He may have forgotten much over the years, but he swore he’d never forget Arthur. It may be deeper, but he _knew_ Arthur’s voice. But it could not be...

“Arthur?” Merlin’s voice trembled in fear and urgency. “Arthur, is that you?”

Arthur—and yes, Merlin dared to hope it was Arthur—shot up and looked at the bed. 

“Merlin? Are you alright? What did they do to you?” He asked in a rush. 

“Is it really you, Arthur?”

“Of course it is, Merlin. Who else would I be?”

“This...this isn’t a trick, is it? Making me think I’ve got my magic back, making me think he’s come for me...you decided that leaving me on the verge of death only to never let me die wasn’t good enough for you? You let me have hope for so long, let me lose it all, and then give it back to me only to take it away from me again? Is that it? Congratulations, you bastards. You’ve done it—you’ve—”

“Merlin!” Arthur interrupted. “Merlin, this isn’t a trick. It’s really me. It’s Arthur. I’ve finally found you. I’m sorry it took me so long...so sorry.”

“Don’t do this!” Merlin cried. “Don’t give me hope! I can’t...can’t get my hopes up again...please...don’t do this to me…”

Arthur looked at Merlin in shock, realizing Merlin truly didn’t believe it was him. 

“What will make you believe it’s me, Merlin? I’ll do anything.”

Merlin took a shuddering breath. “What’s something only Arthur would know?”

“When...when we were six, and I learned I’d have to marry some princess someday, I said I’d sooner marry you than any princess, and that was never going to happen because I hated you. We thought we were alone, but we found Morgana hiding nearby, in Camelot for two weeks with her father. We swore her to secrecy when we realized.”

“Oh my gods...it really is you. You came...you finally came.” 

“Of course I did. I’ll always come for you Merlin. I promised you that years ago. I don’t break my promises.”

“I thought you’d never come. It was so long. So long.”

Merlin was crying, though he couldn’t go to Arthur like he wanted. He needed to know that Arthur was real. It seemed Arthur had a similar idea, however, because he shuffled to the bed, grasping Merlin’s hand. 

“I’m here now,” Arthur spoke softly. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

He didn’t have the chance to do anything more, however, as at that moment the door swung open to reveal two men. Arthur wheeled around and stood up, clutching Excalibur and standing protectively in front of Merlin. He may have his magic back, but he was weak and Arthur wasn’t about to take any risks. 

There were no words spoken. The men knew who he was, why he was here, and Arthur had nothing to say to them. Immediately, they attempted to attack him with magic, neither of them carrying swords, but Excalibur was imbued with the magic of Emrys and a dragon. Their spells slid right off him as he stalked across the room, a deadly look in his eyes. 

They seemed panicked when they realized their spells weren’t working, and then they began to babble. Apologies, explanations, pleas, Arthur wasn’t listening and he certainly didn’t care. 

Both men were disposed of in seconds, neither man standing a chance against Arthur’s skill with a sword. 

Arthur stood for a moment, looking at the men who had taken the person he loved away from him for so long. “I’ll have someone take them back to the city, so their bodies can be burned in the courtyard. Everyone will know what they did.”

“I thought your father did away with burning bodies years ago, after…,” came Merlin’s quiet voice, and they both remembered how Uther had caved into Merlin’s protests about how cruel the punishment was. 

Arthur turned around to face Merlin. “He has, for the most part. The most heinous criminals still get burned. Not alive, of course, but publicly.”

“How many people did he kill looking for me?” Merlin looked down. 

Arthur started walking to the bed. “Not as many as you’d expect. He wanted to find you, but no one knew a thing. It was hard to find any leads to begin with, but he knew that you’d disapprove if he went on a killing spree trying to find you. He was afraid he’d get you back and the first thing you’d do was lecture him.”

“Do you know the number? The amount of people killed in my name?”

Arthur shook his head as he sat on the bed. “For...I believe just about two years now, there’s been no one. Before that, it wasn’t more than a few a year. Some of them were horrible people that might have even deserved it, but some were innocent. And I never stopped him, because I wanted to find you just as bad as he did, and each time I thought, maybe this will be the one. And it never was.”

“Arthur…” Merlin began tentatively, “how long have I been gone? I stopped counting after a few months, and it’s been so long since. They told me I’d been gone for two years at some point, but I’ve no idea how long ago that was.” 

“four years, five months, and twelve days.”

“Four _years_? You kept looking for four years? How did you even find me?”

“Morgana...came to me with a vision. She’d said for years that I’d find you. That she knew it. I told her to stop the reassurances after a while, because they gave me hope I couldn’t afford. But today, she told me to come here. It was the first time she’d mentioned a place, so I took Kilgharrah and he helped me find you. Whatever spell they used was weak enough that your magic could get through.”

“It must’ve been the spell wearing off, or one of them getting weak from holding it for so long. No spell that powerful is meant to last over four years.”

“Well it’s a lucky thing. But we can talk about all this later, right now I want to get you home. Come on.”

Arthur offered Merlin his hand, and Merlin just looked dumbly at it. 

“ _Mer_ lin, I know you’re an idiot but I think you know how to grab my hand,” Arthur smiled encouragingly. 

“Arthur, I—I don’t think I can walk. I can’t even push myself up.” Merlin’s eyes started to water. 

“What?”

“I haven’t left this bed since they put me here. F—four years ago.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Arthur's sad smile turned into an evil grin suddenly. “I guess that just means I’ll have to carry you out of here like a damsel in distress.”

And with that he scooped Merlin into his arms bridal-style. Merlin, it seemed, didn’t even have the energy to squawk at him for it, not for calling him a girl. Instead, he nuzzled his cheek into Arthur’s chest, relishing the feeling of having Arthur there with him. 

Arthur raced as fast as he could with a too-light Merlin through the corridors, not bothering to be stealthy in any way, as he had when he entered. He was sure he passed at least two servants, but he wasn’t paying much notice to anything except getting Merlin to Kilgharrah. 

In a few moments he was outside, and he was met by Kilgharrah’s large form landing in the courtyard. 

“Help me get him home. Please.”

Kilgharrah bowed his head. “It is good to see you, Warlock.”

“You as well, Kilgharrah.”

Arthur lifted Merlin on to the dragon’s back and climbed on behind then. Then they were off, toward the city. He was bringing Merlin back, from the dead. And oh, Merlin...he didn’t know that everyone else had given up on him. He should perhaps warn him that only Morgana would expect today to be the day he brought Merlin back, that everyone else thought him beyond retrieval. 

”Merlin,” he shouted about the roar of the air around them. “I just wanted to tell you something. To prepare you for when we get there.”

“What is it?” 

“It’s just...you were gone for so long, Merlin, and well…after—after the third year, there, well…”

“Arthur, spit it out, will you?”

“Uther decreed you dead, Merlin. No one thought there was any reason to keep you that long and not kill you, so he stopped the patrols and named you dead, officially.”

Merlin was silent. 

“I just—I thought you should know, before we get to the castle. I didn’t want it to be a surprise, you know, when everyone...well.”

Merlin’s chin was tucked to his chest. Arthur could barely hear Merlin when he said, “Thank you for telling me.”

Neither said anything more for the rest of the ride. Arthur just held Merlin close to him, making sure he wouldn’t fall off and relishing in having the man he loved in his arms again. 

Kilgharrah, one for the dramatics, decided to land in the middle of the courtyard. It wasn’t unusual for the old dragon, despite orders for him to stop several times. Arthur was glad of it this time, however, because it meant he could get Merlin into the castle faster. 

As Arthur prepared to slide down Kilgharrah’s side with Merlin, he saw his father descending the stairs in a storm. It was often like this when Arthur came back from looking for Merlin. This time, though, would be different. Because this time Arthur hadn’t come back empty-handed. 

Gathering a now-sleeping Merlin into his arms, Arthur slid from the dragon. He’d purposely gone on the side that would force his father to walk around Kilgharrah. 

“Arthur!” He heard his father call as the man rounded the front of the dragon (who was smirking quite heartily). “I’ve told you, you can’t—“

And then his father stopped short as he saw Arthur. Or, rather, what was in his arms. 

“I found him,” was all Arthur said. 

“That’s really him?” His father asked, stepping closer. Both ignored the murmuring of the crowd around them. “He’s not—“

“He’s just asleep. The ride must’ve tired him.”

“He’s—oh my, he’s alive. You found him.”

Arthur nodded. “We should get Gaius to look at him. And someone to get these cuffs off him.”

Uther seemed to be shaken out of his daze, and he nodded his agreement. He ushered Arthur into the castle and through the corridors to Gaius’ chambers. Uther slammed the door open, not particularly caring if he spooked the old man, just this once. 

Gaius looked up as they rushed in and promptly dropped the vial he was holding. “Sire, is that—“

“It’s Merlin.” Answered Arthur, finally setting Merlin down, but not letting go of his hand or moving away from him. 

“Oh my…” Gaius muttered. 

“Whoever had him used a powerful spell that hid any trace of his magic, as well as his physical location. They chained him in magic suppressing cuffs and tortured him. He hasn’t walked or moved much for years, I don’t think. We only found him because the magic weakened enough to let Kilgharrah find the magical signal.”

“Oh dear. Well, I believe the first order of business is getting these cuffs off him. And getting him some food, as well.”

Uther just short of scrambled to the door for a passing servant or a guard, passing on orders to fetch the royal blacksmith and to send some food up. He knew it would be done promptly, and returned to Merlin’s bedside, where Merlin was beginning to wake. 

“How are you feeling, Merlin?” Gaius asked quietly. 

“Gaius?” Merlin blinked the sleep away and looked up at the physician. “Gaius!” Merlin tried to shoot up and hug the man, but he couldn’t lift himself more than a few inches before his arms collapsed and he fell back onto the cot. Arthur squeezed his hand soothingly. 

“Merlin, how do you feel?” Gaius asked. 

“Better than I have in years, but I suppose that isn’t saying much.”

“Anything specific bothering you?”

“My whole body hurts. My throat, too. Er, my wrists. And I’m starving.”

“Well we can fix a few of those in just a few minutes. Let’s get you some water and honey, that’ll help your throat. We’ve got the royal blacksmith coming to get the manacles off and the kitchen is sending some food up. When you’ve got some food in you I’ll give you something for the pain.”

“Thank you, Gaius.”

Merlin relaxed on the bed as Gaius went to fetch the honey and water. Arthur focused on his father for a moment, though never let go of Merlin’s hand. 

“I killed the two sorcerers that kidnapped him. I expect that they’re still sitting where they were slain. I’m sure you’ll want to burn them in the courtyard as soon as you can.”

“And where were they slain? You never said where you found him,” Uther inquired. 

“They’d taken him to his own estate, in—in what used to be his parents’ room. They’d—“

“I can speak for myself perfectly fine, you prat,” Merlin protested weakly with a scratchy voice from the bed. 

“Just because you can speak does mean you should. Here, drink this,” Gaius directed as he handed Merlin the honey water. 

“As I was saying, they’d enchanted the room to look like his room in Camelot and doused the room in so much magic, not even the strongest magic could find it. I had only looked there because Morgana said to, and Kilgharrah recognized his magic and pointed me in the right direction.”

“Oh, my boy…” Uther muttered, reaching out to run a fatherly hand down the side of Merlin's face. To his surprise, Merlin flinched away. Arthur felt Merlin squeeze his hand hard. 

Gaius interrupted the moment by nudging the king aside, saying, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure he doesn’t have any other injuries or infections.”

Uther stepped aside dutifully, still reeling a bit from Merlin’s reaction. Gaius turned a questioning eye on Arthur, but Arthur held his gaze and Merlin’s hand. After a moment, Gaius sighed in acceptance and began his work, methodically checking the exposed scars. When he found no sign of infection on any of Merlin’s exposed skin, he looked up at the king and prince. 

“I’ll need to undress him now, sires. I’m going to have to ask you to leave the room, to give him some privacy.”

“Not Arthur. Please don’t make him leave,” came Merlin’s voice for the first time since Gaius had given him the water. He held the empty cup in a trembling hand. 

“Alright,” Gaius conceded. “Not Arthur. But if you would, your Majesty…?”

“Of course,” Uther shook himself out of his trance and left the room, presumably to pace outside the door. 

“Right, then,” Gaius mumbled to himself as he set to work peeling Merlin out of his clothes, which were quite possibly the same ones he wore when he was taken—it was impossible to tell, given that they were worn to the point of having several rips and holes. 

Arthur was horrified to see Merlin’s torso and legs. It wasn’t entirely surprising, given the state of his arms and face, but it was still a gruesome sight. Merlin’s chest was covered in the remnants of slashes, burns, and what must have been whips. His back was in a similar state, as were his legs. It seemed that there was not an inch of Merlin’s body that his captors did not see fit to maim. 

To Gaius’ (and Arthur’s) immense relief, it appeared that each injury was free of infection and there were no broken bones. Merlin’s only true illness was malnutrition, dehydration, and extreme and rapid muscle loss. 

Merlin finished off the honey water and asked Gaius for more, but he was afraid it would be too much at a time and that Merlin would simply throw it up again, irritating his throat further. The food they’d called for must have just arrived, as they heard a knock at the door. After making sure Merlin was decent, Gaius bade them entry, then inspected the food to make sure it was fit for Merlin to eat. 

“We’ll have to start you off with a bit more bland food—too many spices could upset your stomach,” Gaius was explaining as he accepted the food and sent the serving girl on her way, telling her to allow the king back in the room on her way out. He handed Merlin a bit of the food and set the rest out of his reach. He’d be ravenous, but if he ate too much it would be just the same as the water. Gaius kindly explained that as he took Arthur and a newly returned Uther to the other side of the room to discuss Merlin’s condition without him hearing. 

“How long until he’ll be back to normal, Gaius?” Arthur asked anxiously. 

“It’s hard to tell, sire. It may be just a week or two for his dehydration, and longer for his malnutrition, given how long he was there. His muscles will take months, since it appears he hasn’t used most of them since he was taken. We’ll have to take it slow to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. He will eventually make a full recovery physically. Mentally, however, is where I’d worry.”

“What’s wrong with his mind?”

Gaius sighed. “Arthur, he’s been tortured for over four years. He waited over four years for you to come save him from it all. And, your Majesty, I’m sorry, but I believe that him knowing you thought that he was dead will not help the situation. Of course, even if Arthur hadn’t told him, he would have found out regardless.”

“I was hardly the first to give up,” Uther hissed, “It had been three years!”

“I do not fault you for believing him dead,” Gaius responded calmly, “I thought the same. But the fact remains that, in Merlin’s perspective, you, his guardian, gave up on him.”

“I never gave up on him,” Arthur whispered vehemently, mindful of Merlin just across the room. “I kept looking and see where it got me! It got me to Merlin!”

“And it will be something everybody will be forever thankful for, Arthur. But he is a dead man living, and he’ll have thought that everyone stopped looking. And all except for Arthur, they had. He’ll likely feel abandoned by all but Arthur. That will...take some time to heal, if it ever does.”

“Well, of course it’ll heal,” Uther insisted, “He’ll understand that we couldn’t look for him forever, and that there had been no sign of him for years!”

“That may be, but the human mind isn’t always rational. Even Arthur will likely have to work to get Merlin’s complete trust back again.”

“Will you all stop talking about me and talk to me,” Merlin’s voice called from across the room. “I’ve been alone for years. I don’t want to be alone any longer.”

And when Merlin’s voice cracked on the last word, Arthur rushed over to see tears in Merlin’s eyes. 

“You won’t be alone. I won’t let you be alone,” Arthur murmured as he gathered Merlin in his arms and rocked him, sitting on the cot Merlin had been resting on. Merlin let himself be rocked while he tried to control his tears. A few minutes later, Merlin was calm enough that Arthur started to let him down, but Merlin quietly asked him to stay. 

“Sorry. It’s just...four years is a long time. A sixth of my life, almost. And I only saw two people during that entire time, and they both tortured me.”

“It’s perfectly alright to be emotional, Merlin,” Gaius said. “You’ve been through a lot. It’ll get better with time and rest. Which I suggest you get a lot of.”

Uther hadn’t spoken since his insistence of Merlin recovery. 

“We’ll get your old rooms prepared immediately,” he announced, and left to presumably ensure it was done. 

Meanwhile, the royal blacksmith arrived to take Merlin’s manacles off. It was a relatively fast process, since Merlin’s captors had never allowed his injuries to get infected, so the skin around his wrists wasn’t as tender as it ought to have been in normal circumstances. 

Merlin jolted when the first manacle snapped. When the second one snapped, he passed out. Concerned, Gaius flew to his side and felt for a pulse. Once he concluded that he had passed out due to the shock of having all his power in his body again, everyone calmed and the blacksmith left. 

It was only a minute or so later that Merlin woke, and immediately wanted to use his magic again, even just to light a candle, but Gaius refused, saying it was too soon and he was too weak, and he’d already passed out enough times today. Merlin pouted, but he really was exhausted, and despite the fact that it felt wonderful to finally feel all his magic buzzing under his skin for the first time in over four years, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything close to what he would normally be able to do for a long time yet. 

It was quiet for a moment, and Merlin bit his lip as he looked at Arthur, who was still sitting behind Merlin and holding him. 

“Arthur...would—could. Well...would you mind. Uh. Staying with me. Tonight?”

“Not at all. I’ll stay with you as long as you need.”

Merlin murmured his thanks. Merlin had a bit more water and bread, and then it started getting dark. A serving girl came in to tell them Merlin's room was ready. That was Arthur’s cue to lift Merlin off the bed and through the corridors, which were thankfully fairly clear of anyone. They’d try to see exactly how weak Merlin was tomorrow, but for now Gaius didn’t want to push their luck. 

When they reached Merlin’s room and Arthur opened the door, Merlin’s eyes went wide and he writhed against Arthur. He wasn’t able to do much, just hit Arthur’s chest lightly and wiggle a bit. He was crying, Arthur realized. 

“Woah, Merlin. It’s alright. You’re alright. I’m here.”

“Can’t go in there. Don’t wanna go in there. Don’t—don’t make me…”

“Hey,” Arthur cooed as he closed the door, “I won’t make you go in there. We can go to my rooms, if you want?”

Merlin only nodded into his chest. So off they went, through the very few corridors that separated Merlin’s rooms from Arthur’s. 

Merlin had practically fallen asleep in his arms, so when they arrived at his rooms, Arthur simply laid Merlin in the bed and pulled off his boots. He himself redressed in his sleep clothes, with some difficulty. Merlin had curled up on the bed as soon as his boots had been pulled off, burying his face in Arthur’s pillows. 

Arthur sighed sadly, looking over the thin, scarred man in his bed. He’d been so excited that finally, _finally_ he’d found his lost love, his best friend, his Merlin, that he hadn’t even considered what state he would find him in. The physical wounds would heal and scar—many already had—and he would regain his strength, no matter how long it took. He would get his magic back. 

For now, though, Arthur simply pulled Merlin into him and let himself fall asleep. 

X

Everyone understood that it would be a long road to recovery. In the morning, Arthur delivered Merlin to Gaius and told him about Merlin’s terror upon seeing his own room. Gaius suggested they renovate his rooms so that he didn’t have to see the place he was tortured in, because Arthur insisted Merlin use those rooms because of their proximity to Arthur’s rooms. In the meantime, he would stay with Arthur, so that he could calm Merlin enough to rest. Morgana, who had come in shortly after Arthur and Merlin arrived that morning, gleefully took up the project after giving Merlin a huge welcome back smooch on the cheek and a hug. 

Arthur would, of course, deny that the simple act of affection made him jealous. If asked, the way Merlin accepted it happily did not spark any anger in him at all. He did not, should anyone wonder, frown and step closer to Merlin, then take his hand. And he certainly had no idea what Morgana’s pointed look at their hands meant. 

Merlin was incredibly tired and weak, as they expected. Once Gaius was sure that Merlin had had as much food as he could handle, he helped Merlin sit up and had Arthur support Merlin as they tried to see if he could stand. 

He could, with support, but he couldn’t walk more than a step or two at a time, even with Arthur glued to his side. Gaius decided that that was enough for the day and prescribed a strict regimen of healing and strengthening potions, as well as some cosmetic potions to reduce the amount of scarring. 

Merlin would never be completely scar-free, but the potions would make some of them fade a little, Gaius explained. When Gaius told him about those, Merlin looked like a hopeful puppy with the realization he wouldn’t be scarred forever, but his face fell when Gaius said he’d never be scar-free. Still, Merlin supposed less scarring was better than anything he could’ve hoped for. When he was imprisoned, he was constantly haunted with the idea that, if he ever did get rescued, his rescuer would be disgusted by the scars that made his skin bumpy and rough everywhere. 

Arthur hadn’t been, but then, Merlin hadn’t been there to see his initial reaction, and Arthur would never let him see his true feelings if he knew he would hurt Merlin, he was far too chivalrous for that. For all he knew, Arthur couldn’t stand the sight of him and would drop the act as soon as Merlin was well enough to—literally—get his feet back under him. 

He forced himself out of his thoughts and looked at the basket of potions he was meant to swallow down every morning and night for the foreseeable future. Right as Arthur grabbed the basket and was preparing to carry Merlin back to his rooms for a small nap after the morning’s exertion, the door opened and Uther walked in. 

“Merlin, dear boy, how are you feeling this morning?” Uther asked as he approached the cot Merlin was propped up in. 

“Fine,” Merlin said shortly, turning away from the king as much as he could. Uther looked affronted at his ward’s tone, but Gaius stepped in to allay the king’s anger. 

“He’s doing well, sire. I expect he’ll be standing and walking on his own in no time, if he takes his medicine. With Arthur’s support, he was able to walk a bit today. I was just suggesting—”

“Walking already! That’s wonderful news, isn’t it? Why don’t you show me now?” Uther half asked, half demanded in false joy that Gaius and Arthur suspected he was using to cover up the confusion and anger over his ward’s behavior. 

“Father, as Gaius was just about to say, Merlin—” Arthur started, then allowed Gaius to speak. 

“Sire, I don’t believe that he has the energy for that now. If you had come earlier, it might have been manageable, but he’ll need a nap as it is, and pushing him harder than he can handle will only slow his recovery.”

Uther looked at Merlin, who refused to look back, and nodded once. “Fine. Tomorrow, send for me before you begin. I wish to monitor his recovery.”

“Of course, sire,” Gaius agreed before Uther looked at Merlin once more and strode out of the room. 

Arthur looked at the open door a moment before picking a sulking Merlin up and making him carry the basket of vials and flasks. They—well, Arthur—walked back to Arthur’s chambers in silence, passing few servants despite the busy morning hour. When they got there, Arthur set Merlin down and placed the basket on the bedside table. Merlin curled away from him and Arthur sat down on the end of the bed. 

“Alright, Merlin, you can stop sulking.”

“‘M not sulking,” muttered Merlin. 

“Then what do you call that? It looks a lot like sulking to me,” Arthur joked as he poked Merlin in the arm. 

“Leave it, Arthur.”

“Why are you acting like this? My father hasn’t done anything, and don’t tell me it’s not him, because I know it is.”

“I told you to drop it, Arthur.”

“I just want to know how to fix it. I’ve just got you back, I don’t want you hiding from everyone—from me—because you’re refusing help.”

“It can’t be fixed, Arthur. The damage is done,” Merlin whispered. 

“Tell me what happened, then, you know Gaius said that bottling up your emotions isn’t going to help—”

“Oh, and you’re one to talk, I’m sure. I’m absolutely sure you’ve never bottled up your emotions and refused to talk about anything before, right? Leave me alone, Arthur.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “Fine. If you’re not ready to talk about it yet, you don’t have to. But this isn’t going to work forever, Merlin.”

Merlin just grunted as Arthur walked to his desk to get some work done while Merlin slept. At least Merlin was still talking to him. And Arthur would find out why Merlin was reacting to Uther that way, if he had to force it out of Merlin. In the meantime, he’d discuss it with Gaius and see what he thought of it. For right now, though, he had paperwork. 

X

The next day, when Uther was present, Merlin refused to do anything. He would not cooperate so long as Uther was watching. Arthur saw the pained look on his father’s face when it became obvious that Uther was the reason he wasn’t doing anything. Eventually Gaius ordered Uther out so that they could get something done. 

The following days, and eventually weeks, went in much a similar fashion. Merlin got better, much better, and progressed to walking and standing on his own thanks to the magic Gaius infused all his potions with. But he still wouldn’t do anything if Uther was in the room, and he wouldn’t tell anyone, not even Gaius, Gwen, or Morgana, why. 

Arthur and Gaius guessed it had something to do with what he had gone through in the four plus years he’d been tortured, but they weren’t sure what. Still, Gaius said they shouldn’t press it quite yet, so Arthur didn’t. 

After the first day when Merlin told him to leave it alone, as long as Arthur didn’t ask about it, Merlin was as affectionate to him as he’d always been, if not more. Arthur was glad for it. He’d held on to his love for Merlin throughout the years, and he wouldn’t have been able to hide his reaction if Merlin turned his cold shoulder to him. Though, he didn’t dare let Merlin know of his affections, lest he face rejection and disgust from Merlin. 

And though Arthur didn’t know it, Merlin had held on to his love for Arthur as well. He was adamant, then, that he didn’t let Arthur know why his feelings toward Uther had changed, nor about his feelings, because then Arthur would reveal his true feelings about the scars and his crippled mind and body, which would obviously be bad and Merlin couldn’t allow his fragile heart to face that. 

Not when Merlin slept with Arthur in the same bed almost every night, to calm his night terrors and ensure that he got his medicines and provide him comfort when the going got tough. As soon as Arthur got wind of Merlin’s true feelings, the bed-sharing would stop, and it would be another knight, perhaps Lancelot or Leon, that would join him for his daily exercises, not Arthur’s strong body. Merlin wasn’t ready to give all that up yet. 

  
  


It was nearing three months since Merlin’s arrival home that Gaius decreed Merlin well enough to attend a feast. That was also the day everything came to a head. 

Uther insisted that they finally have a feast to celebrate Merlin’s return, which he had been holding off on until Merlin was better. Merlin’s expression soured when Arthur mentioned it, but he said nothing in protest, which was as much of a yes as they were going to get. 

Gaius gave Merlin orders to rest instead of doing their usual exercises so that he would have energy for the feast. That made Merlin grumble a bit, but Arthur seemed so happy to see him well enough to attend a feast, Merlin couldn’t be very upset for long. 

So, later, in an almost eerie echo of the last feast Merlin had attended, Arthur went to collect Merlin and escorted him to the feast, where he sat between Uther and Arthur as the center of attention for the night. When he’d heard about the seating arrangements, Merlin had tried to get Arthur to sit between him and the king, but Morgana refused to change anything unless Merlin told her why he didn’t want to sit next to Uther. Merlin wouldn’t, so the seating stayed the same. 

Uther made a grand speech about how glad he was that his beloved ward was finally on his way to wellness that Merlin only pretended to listen to, and then food was served. Merlin was permitted to eat the food and have some wine, but he wasn’t to eat too much, nor overindulge in the wine. Gaius, to Merlin’s chagrin, gave the task of keeping tabs on him to Arthur. 

That left Merlin between a king he blamed for four years of torture and the man he loved turned babysitter for the feast, and he was enjoying it much less than he’d hoped he would. Not that he’d expected it to be great, given how his last feast ended. 

All in all, by the time the feast was winding down and it was time for Arthur to take him to his chambers, Merlin was feeling more than a little horrible. He wasn’t too tired, but being forced to sit next to Uther for hours was terrible and Arthur had been curbing any fun he’d tried to have with his mother henning. And, of course, he wasn’t even allowed to drink himself into oblivion. So, yes, he was in a bad mood. 

“Are you alright? Feeling tired or anything?” Arthur asked from beside him, and as much as Merlin loved feeling taken care of by Arthur so that he could pretend Arthur cared for a reason other than friendship or obligation, it was starting to grate on his nerves. 

“I’m fine.”

“You always say you’re fine when you’re not.” Arthur pointed out. 

“This time I am fine. I’m just not in a good mood,” Merlin said petulantly. 

“Care to share why?” This was the first time since the early days that Arthur had prodded into his feelings, and it surprised Merlin. 

“No.”

“Merlin,” Arthur stopped Merlin by grabbing his wrist and whirling him around to face him. “You have to tell someone eventually. Please.” 

“No, I don’t,” Merlin yanked his hand away from Arthur. 

“Please, Merlin,” Arthur pleaded, “you can’t carry on like this.”

“Watch me.”

Arthur watched Merlin stalk off, but he wasn’t heading toward Arthur’s chambers like he had every night since he’d come back. He was heading toward his own chambers, which Morgana had finished renovating an age ago, but Merlin hadn’t wanted to move back into them. 

“Merlin—”

“ _What_ , Arthur? Do you think I’m not capable of sleeping without my nanny there to make sure I drink my potions and don’t wake up screaming because I was tortured for _four years_? Are you going to run to Gaius and tell him I’m being naughty because you can’t face me yourself, even after I’ve been back all this time?”

“Merlin, that’s not why—”

But Merlin was running toward his rooms already. Arthur caught up to him easily and scooped him up before he could lock Arthur out of his rooms. Merlin writhed and pushed at him in a similar way he did the last time he carried Merlin to his rooms, but this time Arthur actually had to use a bit of effort keeping Merlin in his arms. 

Once inside, he set Merlin down and locked the door. Merlin immediately went to the bed and sat on it, facing Arthur. Arthur stayed near the door. 

“Will you listen now?”

“No.”

“Too bad. I want to know why you’re acting that way toward my father because I’m your friend—” Arthur congratulated himself on not sounding too strangled when he said that, “—and I care about you, Merlin. My father does, too, and he wants to know what he can do to earn back the respect he had before you...disappeared.”

“He has no right to care about me! He—he’s the reason I disappeared in the first place!” 

Merlin’s eyes went wide before his whole body closed off and he turned around, leaving no room for Arthur. 

“Merlin, my father didn’t kidnap you, he spent years looking for you. How is he the reason?”

Merlin shook his head. 

“Merlin, please, let me in. I only want to help.”

Nothing from Merlin. 

Arthur exhaled. “That’s fine. I wasn't expecting more, anyway.”

As he went to leave and give Merlin some space, he heard Merlin crying. Immediately, he turned and went to the bed, because no matter what mood Merlin was in, he’d never left Merlin alone when he was crying, even when it was because of him. He’d never been able to stand it when Merlin was crying, and that hadn’t changed over the years. He wrapped Merlin in a hug, and Merlin only tried to pull away a little before he gave up. 

When it appeared that Merlin had cried himself out, Arthur released his hold on Merlin and made to leave again. Before he left, he turned to Merlin and spoke quietly. 

“I won’t push this, Merlin, but I promise you’ll feel better when you talk to someone. It doesn’t have to be me or even Gaius, but you must tell someone.”

And then he retreated to his rooms for what he expected to be the first full night he’d had without Merlin with him in the months since he’d found him. It was odd, he thought, that he had spent so many nights sleeping with the man like he’d dreamed of being able to do for years after he realized why he had never been able to hate Merlin, yet he still did not have the man’s affections as he wished he did. Obviously if he had Merlin’s heart like Merlin had his, he wouldn’t be constantly pushed away and refused when he tried to get through Merlin’s newly formed rough exterior. 

He only allowed himself to wallow in these thoughts while he got ready for bed, and then he forced himself to clear his mind so he could sleep. It worked, and he was asleep in a matter of moments, emotionally exhausted from his argument with Merlin.

A few hours later, Arthur was awoken by his door being opened. Instantly, he was alert and reached for the dagger he kept under his pillow. He heard the intruder creep quietly across the room while he feigned sleep. When he felt the bed dip, he sprung up and grabbed the person, holding the dagger to their neck. He then looked at the intruder, and promptly dropped the dagger as he realized it was Merlin. 

“Merlin!” Arthur gasped as he let Merlin go, “What in the world were you thinking! You can’t just sneak into my chambers in the middle of the night!”

Merlin, however, wasn’t listening. He knew, logically, that Arthur wouldn’t have hurt him, that he didn’t know it was Merlin, that for all he knew Merlin was an assassin, but that didn’t stop his heart from pounding and his breath from quickening. When Arthur noticed, he was quick to try to calm Merlin. 

“Shh, shh, I won’t hurt you, I promise. I was only surprised, I didn’t know it was you. Shh,” Arthur rambled as he pulled Merlin into his chest, which Merlin wasted no time in soaking with his tears. Many a night shirt had been ruined in this way, and Arthur had long since stopped minding. 

When Merlin composed himself for a second time that night, he apologized quietly to Arthur for frightening him. 

“I wasn’t frightened, _Mer_ lin. You surprised me, like I said before.”

“Sure you were,” Merlin snarked. “And I’m a princess.”

“Well, you are a princess, Merlin. So I don’t see the point you’re making.”

Merlin smiled softly. One of the things he had most missed was his and Arthur’s playful banter. Arthur had treaded carefully around him for a while, and it had taken them a while to get back to normal. Even if he wished they were a bit more than friends, he was glad he could count on Arthur to stay the same. 

“Why are you here, Merlin?” Arthur asked, eyes cast down. 

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why come here? You could’ve asked Gaius for a sleeping draught. You made it clear enough that you don’t trust me enough to know what’s wrong, so why come to me?”

“I sleep better with you than when I take sleeping draughts. And that’s not fair, Arthur. I’m not ready to tell anybody yet.”

Arthur looked up at Merlin. “When will you be ready, then? Because it’s starting to seem like you never will be. It’s been three months, Merlin. What has to happen for you to be ready?”

“I just need more time…”

“How much more? Merlin, you were gone for over four years. I looked for you as often as I could for four years. It destroyed me to keep looking for you, hoping I would find you and then never succeeding. And every time I came back unsuccessful, my father would look at me like I was a failure because I couldn’t find you. When even he said you were probably dead, he forbade me from looking, and I went insane, because I refused to stop looking, even when I had no hope left of ever finding you. 

“Don’t you know what it did to me, to think myself a failure because I couldn’t find you, and then to have my father confirm it, and not have you to turn to afterwards, like I always did after our lessons when we were little?” Arthur was crying now. “And now, now I’ve finally got you back, after counting the days you’d been gone and imagining what it would be like when I finally found you, and now you refuse to talk to anyone! You don’t want to trust me, or anyone. I don’t see how you can expect to go back to how everything was before when you can’t tell me what’s wrong after you’ve had months to process it!”

“Arthur…”

“Merlin, nothing can be as it was before. I can’t go back to how it was before. I had hoped...that things would...change between us when I got you back, but not in this way. I refuse to let you break my heart anymore this way. Either tell me what happened, or find someone else willing to let you break their heart, because I can’t do this any longer.”

Merlin was getting more and more upset the longer Arthur talked, anger and anguish an odd mix on his face. “Arthur, I was tortured for four years. I didn’t know you were looking. All I knew was that I spent years being cut up and burned and whipped and all manner or things, hoping I would die, and never being allowed to, and you never came to save me. I stopped believing you were still looking. And even in the days I still hoped you were looking, I thought you’d be repulsed by me, by the scars. 

“I’m no fool. We both know you could have anyone in the kingdom falling at your feet if you wished it. In the early days, I hoped you would be my knight in shining armor, foolishly thinking you might return my feelings even with a few scars. A—and then, when you finally did come, and you let me sleep with you and you cared for me and basically doted on me, even through my bad days, and I hoped again that you could return my feelings.

“B—but every time I might dare to think that, I remembered my scars and how damaged I am, and I couldn’t bear to tell you, nor could I ever tell you why I can no longer stand to be around your father. A—and I believe I’ve already said far more than I ever meant to. I understand if you don’t want to be around me any longer. You can stop coming with me to Gaius. And I’ll sleep in my own room from now on.”

Had Merlin looked up from his hands, he would have seen Arthur gaping at him, opening and closing his mouth. But as Merlin moved to get up, Arthur snatched at his wrist and tugged him back, closer. 

“Merlin, how could you not know? I love you more than anything. I didn’t want to tell you because I was afraid you would reject me, and I couldn’t bear it. I love you, Merlin. That’s why it hurts so much that you can’t trust me.”

“You won’t see me the same if I tell you…” Merlin shifted, still half in Arthur’s lap. 

“I promise, whatever you tell me about why you blame Father, I won’t think any different of you.”

Merlin licked his lips, shifting his gaze to anything but Arthur. “You promise?”

“I promise. Please, let me in.” Arthur held Merl3in just a little tighter, as if to brace himself for what Merlin was about to tell him. 

“A few years before I was taken, there was a plot to kill the king and take his throne. Obviously it failed. It involved my kidnappers’ father and several brothers. They were obviously executed for treason by Uther. But Uther also decided to hunt down the rest of the family and execute them, too, even though they were innocent. My kidnappers were the only ones left of their family because of Uther’s insistence on executing people unnecessarily, and I paid the price for it.

“They thought kidnapping me, the person Uther supposedly cared for more than anyone, would punish Uther properly for what he put them through, losing their family. I suppose it did for a while, until he gave up. Then it was only my suffering, my pain. And it was all his fault!”

“Merlin...you know Father couldn’t have predicted this. It’s not his fault—” 

“So if he’d known, he wouldn’t have mercilessly executed those people? Is that it? He wouldn’t have done it if he’d known I would get hurt? I’m glad to know his morals stretch that far.”

“I’m not saying he was right in executing those people. But that was years and years ago. You can’t blame him for what those people did to you. That was their choice.”

“I—I know he wasn’t directly responsible. I know he couldn’t have known that was going to happen. But it was Uther’s choice to execute those people and I suffered for it. So I will blame him as much as I like for what I’ve gone through.”

Arthur sat back a little and sighed. “Then I suppose I cannot stop you from hating him. And thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this, finally.”

Merlin looked down at his lap for a minute, then looked up at Arthur shyly. “So...now that all of that is sorted, does this mean I can kiss you now?”

Arthur barked out a surprised laugh. “I think this means that we should go to sleep, and we’ll see about the kissing in the morning. I don’t believe either of us is in a good state of mind to start anything tonight.”

Merlin pouted a bit, but didn’t say anything more as he crawled under the covers and cuddled into Arthur, who wrapped himself around Merlin in a protective embrace. Though they had slept in the same bed for months, this night was a more intimate affair than any other. 

Right as Arthur was drifting off to sleep again, he heard Merlin whisper, “Arthur?”

“Yeah, Merlin?”

“I just realized, I never said...I love you.”

“Love you too, Merls...now go to sleep.”

It was the best night of sleep either of them had gotten in years. 

  
X

Despite knowing how his father would react, Arthur began to officially court Merlin later that week, after several discussions about their feelings and trust and where they both wanted to go in their relationship. The court was elated, as Merlin came from a powerful family and had strategic lands. Plus, many of them had seen how they cared for each other. There was the problem of heirs, but laws could be tweaked to allow for a legitimate heir to come from a lady who wasn’t Arthur’s wife. 

Uther, however, was furious. He knew that Merlin no longer cared for him as he used to, gods only knew why. He had loved Merlin like a son for years, and now his actual son, who had always been a disappointment and the boy who had killed his mother, was the one Merlin wanted to marry. He also knew that Arthur was not deserving of any kind of love from someone like Merlin, who had so much power and potential, and could choose someone far more worthy of him. 

So Uther threw all his kingly power into preventing their courtship, especially as it became clear that there would soon be a royal wedding. But Uther knew that he could not stop it when they had the full power of his lords behind them. So eventually he resigned himself to glowering when Merlin and Arthur returned from a hunt giddy and smiling, Merlin with Ygraine’s ring on his finger. 

But Arthur and Merlin paid him no mind throughout all the preparations for the wedding, sending out invitations to the surrounding kingdoms and getting fitted for outfits. They knew fully that Uther disapproved of their relationship, but there was nothing that would get in their way of a happily ever after. 

Exactly one year, one month, and six days after Merlin was brought home, they married. With the royal family of four surrounding kingdoms and no less than an entire brood of dragons in attendance, the ceremony was beautiful. Even Uther grudgingly admitted to himself that it was a nice event. 

On that day, Merlin and Arthur finally got their happy ending. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
